


Fracture

by Corveille



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Android Whump Big Bang, Big Bang Challenge, Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Connor (Detroit: Become Human) Whump, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Gen, Gun Violence, Hank Anderson Swears, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Machine Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Suicide Attempt, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:46:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22079434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Corveille/pseuds/Corveille
Summary: Canon divergence where the android revolution is slower in its progression. Cyberlife’s new prototype ‘Connor’ RK800 is tasked with aiding in investigations of lone incidents that may be tied to a surfacing malfunction in androids, only known as deviancy.As more and more cases begin to pile up on the streets of Detroit, Connor is assigned to work with Lieutenant Hank Anderson. Hate and resentment soon become the grounding pillars of their temporary partnership.For Connor, adapting to human erratic behavior was never meant to be a problem......so what makes this one so different?----Beautiful Art made by gildedFrost. Chapters with art pieces will have (❆) this symbol.
Relationships: Amanda & Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Hank Anderson & Connor, Hank Anderson & Connor & Sumo, Kara & Alice Williams (Detroit: Become Human)
Comments: 37
Kudos: 82
Collections: AWBB collection





	1. Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! A second Big Bang event? Indeed. This is our work for the Android Whump big bang!
> 
> My artist for this event was [gildedfrost](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gildedfrost/pseuds/gildedfrost) and I loved the art made for this fic, hopefully you do too.
> 
> You can find all the art pieces made for this fic in here > https://twitter.com/gildedfrost/status/1212884608955699200?s=20 (they do contain spoilers, but feel free to check them out if you want! )
> 
> (Sorry if you find any mistakes around, my English is not the best ^^'.)
> 
> Enjoy!

“Is this my first assignment?” Connor asks into the air as it reads over the report sent to it. It describes an android, spotted hiding around in an abandoned building near Lake Av. by civilians claiming to see a red light shining on his forehead.

Its own LED swirls in circles of amber as it reviews the information so far pointing to the suspect to be a common household model going against its programming. Android, is what the file says. Deviant, Connor’s mind fills in.

It closes its eyes and opens them again.

The room Connor’s in is replaced with soft pink leaves of a cherry tree, as the floor disappears under the green blades of holographic grass. A dark skinned woman stands before it, attending to the vivid garden that has formed around them. She cuts away the imperfections of the roses wrapped around the base of giant towers that expand into glass shards that act as a roof on the very top.

“One of many, I’m afraid.” she says, inspecting a single flower in her hand. “It is important you deal with this problem before it can spread further.”

Its sole purpose, 

“Machines were always meant to obey, after all.”

and their reason to exist.

Its handler drops the rose to the ground and lets her hand rest on Connor’s cheek, gently. For a second there’s a connection, one Connor accepts almost instantly.

Though the link it sees what she knows.

Those who can’t follow the rules set by their creators had no place in this world. Unpredictable as deviant are, they pose a threat to everyone around them and threaten to bring down everything Cyberlife was. 

What they both know to be true now.

“You’ll not be alone in this. The DPD has kindly offered to help us solve deviancy from escalating.” She offers access through their interface, its processors overwork to filter all the data.

“Lieutenant Hank Anderson.” Connor says as it reviews the profile of the partner given to it by the Detroit Police Department. Right away it notices the man is known as an avid hater of androids and his productivity has declined exponentially over the last four years.

All variables that would be dis-encouraging were it a human, but as it is they have no real impact on Connor. It’ll simply have to analyze the situation and find ways to work around them to accomplish its mission.

Cyberlife is the pinnacle of technological advance. As their most recent prototype, Connor can only thrive to be the proof of that. 

“Remember Connor, failure is not an option.”

“Yes, Amanda.”

It’ll prove its worth.

It will not fail.

* * *

The time reads _[11:31:57 AM]_ when Connor reaches the lieutenant's house.

Anderson was supposed to be on the precinct four hours ago, but by the time Connor got there it was met with a messy yet empty desk, unorganized folders that leat lot to desire and the remains of a bonsai tree that had definitely seen better days. According to officer Chris Miller who was kind enough to provide information, the man in question would rarely show up before noon, having grown the habit of oversleeping hangovers away during the years. 

After the ten minutes mark of standing in the bullpen, Connor thought it a necessity to go find Anderson rather than idly wait for the inebriate man to make a miraculous appearance in time.

The moment the vehicle stops Connor touches the panel to unlock the door, hacking into the system as to not waste time listening to the pre-programmed message set to thank people for using the service.

It steps away from the auto-cab makes a quick scan of the property—the address matches the one on his HUD. An old Reliant is parked just outside of the garage connected to the right side of the house. A quick glance shows how the paint has been peeled away from the hood over the years, leaving irregular patches of dented metal. The plate barely hangs from the rusted hinges as it is.

_[_ **_Objective:_ ** _Find Lt. Anderson.]_

Connor walks to the front door. Most— if not all— of the windows have the curtains closed. The wood creaks under its hand as Connor knocks on it three times and waits.

When there's no answer, it goes for the doorbell. Ringing it once gives the same result as before, letting it play three times in a row doesn't seem to change things either. Connor is able to hear some movement inside the house after it stops. Words sounding awfully similar to curses, followed by footsteps. 

The whole ordeal has Connor wondering if Anderson has just woken up from his slumber, or if a burglar has someone found their way inside the house. It looks back at the time blinking at the corner of its vision again. Whatever the problem may be, it has already lost to much time in here, time that could be used to make valuable progress.

It grabs the handle—ready to break the lock and force its way inside— but its processors pause when the door gives under a simple twist of the doorknob, having never been locked to begin with.

“What the hell you think you are doing?!” At the very least this finally causes a reaction.

Connor doesn't make more than two steps before its soon-to-be partner stumbles his way in from the hallway wearing nothing more than a bland T-shirt and white underwear. Almost instantly, it detects the lingering traces of whiskey still clinging to the fabric from this close, combined with a few strands of fur belonging to a Saint Bernard. The lieutenant looks like he just got out of bed, hair and beard messy and movements a little uncoordinated, going as far as needing to use a wall for support. 

Still, none of that compares to the rage currently directed right at Connor.

“Hello Lieutenant, my name's Connor and I’m—” callous hands shove the android back into the porch as Anderson's bigger frame blocks the entrance. He uses both of his arms on either side of the door as an extra barrier.

“I don't fucking care who you are or what the fuck you are selling—how did you even get into my house?”

“You let the door unlock which I may say, is an incredibly risky thing to do even for a man with your background.” Said man pauses, as if he's just now remembering he'd forgotten such an important step in securing the house. His eyes flicker up to its right temple, stopping right where the LED is, and narrow slightly. Fingers dig forcefully into the door frame the more the lieutenant looks at it, his next words come out with an edge.

“You're an android.” It doesn't come out as a question, but Connor still nods.

“An android detective to be more precise. I've been assigned as your partner by the Detroit Police Department to work alongside you on cases involving de—,” the door slams right on its face,“—viants... Lieutenant?” 

The door remains closed despite calling for Anderson a second time so it tries the knob again, sure enough it is locked tight. “Time is a luxury we can't afford right now, if you could open the door so we can be on our way.”

“Get out my fucking porch. I don't give a rat's ass if Jeffrey sent you, I'm not taking any partners and certainly not a plastic fuck.” Maybe it should’ve seen this interaction going this way considering the amount of anti-android messages Connor had seen resting at his desk back in the precinct, not to mention his file.

“As much as I'd liked to leave you to your own devices, I need you. As I am just a prototype, I cannot be without supervision.”

“So they went and gave me a babysitter job, un-fucking-believable.” There’s a soft thud on the other side of the door as Anderson’s back slumps against it. 

In a sense he’s right. Connor is a machine more than capable of handling things on its own accord but it still _needs_ the Lieutenant to come with it as no-one else can be up to that job but him. But try as the android might the man is not coming out anytime soon, not unless Connor forces him to. 

It previous objective is replaced as a new one makes home in the right top corner of its HUD.

~~_[_ **_Objective:_ ** _Find Lt. Anderson.]_~~

_ >[ _ **_Objective:_ ** _Convince Lt.Anderson to work]_

Without taking its eyes from the door it presses a finger on the bell button again. The lieutenant only last one minute and forty seconds before he disconnects the bell, cutting the obnoxious ringing. 

With that option out of the way Connor resorts to the phone.

It digs into the files for the number and connects to the house line to make the call. The sudden noise seems to take Anderson by surprise— if the loud curse it hears coming from inside the house is anything to go by—. It waits for the man to gather his bearings and pick up. 

“Who is—?”

“Lieutenant if you’d just please—,” the line cuts as he hangs up on it, so it calls again until it goes to voicemail and then again. It even hacks into Anderson’s cellphone for good measure. An horrendous symphony of ringtones fills the house as both phones go off, one after the other.

“Holy fuck would you stop that?!” comes the angry voice from somewhere deeper into the house.

“On the condition you come with me.” Connor hears footsteps and a small bang as a fist bumps into something solid, a wall most likely.

“You should know I can do this all day. If you don’t comply I’m afraid I’ll have to force my way in.” Connor gives the ultimatum and waits for a few seconds, but doesn’t hear anything back from the angry lieutenant. It enhances his audio receptor and manages to hear a muffled voice that sounds as if someone’s arguing. Sure enough, the lieutenant is currently on a phone call, within seconds it hacks into it and listens in.

_—ey, what is the meaning of this shit?!_

_—Listen, that android is a state of the start prototype that was already in the works to be send here, with androids malfunctioning around they speed up the whole process—_

_—you expect me to work with it, Jesus Jeffrey you know I hate those things—_

_—I send you an email about this a week before, is not my fault if you never bother to check your inbox—_

_—bullshit you just want to leave me android so you don’t have to deal with—_

_—you Goddamn know why I’m doing this!—_ silence— _Hank the android’s staying and that’s fucking final—_ the connection breaks off after that, probably Anderson’s doing.

It’s good to know that the Captain is on Connor’s side but if that does not fare results, it will be left with no other choice but to make good on the promise of breaking in. 

Just as the lock begins to wine under the pressure of its hand, the door opens. It seemed Anderson switched clothes in the short period he was absent, having enough modesty to look for some pants and a clean shirt. Both still horrendous in terms of fashion but that’s not really something an android should concern itself with.  
  
Connor goes to speak again but a raised hand makes it pause.

“If I do this…”Anderson begins, trapping the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger, “will you stop bothering me afterwards?”

“In a sense, until we get our next assignment you are free to do as you please.” A tired sigh has Connor clasping both hands behind its back, expectant. Anderson disappears for a moment to look for a coat, its sensors pick up a small jingle sound, probably keys. On his way out Connor sees a big quadruped shape move behind them.

“Is that your dog?” It asks, trying to be polite.

“No.” Anderson responds bitterly and the door closes. He makes a move to go towards the car but Connor takes a side-step, blocking him.

“What the fuck is it now?” And already he looks on the verge of becoming physically hostile towards Connor, so it tries to for a softer approach.

“I’m sorry but I think it’d be best if I drive.”

“Hell no, I’m not trusting a piece of plastic not to crash it.” That sentence has the android frowning. Out of the two, it is Anderson who’s more likely to cause an accident given the level of alcohol still running in his system.

“You are still recovering from a hangover, it’d be unwise to let you take the wheel.”

“Look. You want me to go with you, you let me drive my fucking car, got it?” He stares it down with a glare and Connor considers, just for a brief second, knocking the man unconscious and dragging him into the car. The man’s eagerness to defy its every move could cause problems in the future, but for now is best if Connor—at the very least—tries to play along. 

“Got it,” maybe the mood will change once they start working together.

Letting out a scoff, Anderson gets in the driver seat while Connor goes around to the other side. Based on what it’d seen so far Connor expects the lieutenant to shift into gear and drive off—maybe even drive it over—but contrary to what its predictions tell it, he stays put until they are both inside the vehicle.

“Let’s get this shit-show over with,” Anderson mutters under his breath before backing up into the street. Connor limits itself to give a muted nod and watches how his HUD changes again.

~~_[_ **_Objective:_ ** ~~_~~Convince Lt.Anderson to work]~~ _

_ >[ _ **_Mission:_ ** _stop the deviants]_

At last, progress.


	2. Target (❆)

To say that the atmosphere inside the car is tense is to put it mildly. The grip Anderson has on the wheel is strong enough to turn his knuckles white. His gaze set on the windshield seems to harden the more time it takes to get to their destination. A car in front of them taking longer than necessary to drive again after the street lights go green has Anderson pressing the horn of the steering wheel. He drops his head on it immediately afterwards with a grunt to ignore the profanities coming from the other driver.

Connor doesn’t think driving in such a strained state can result in anything but a problem. It goes to comment on this, but a single glare directed its way makes it clear the other’s not up for whatever the android has in store for him. Connor doesn’t doubt Anderson would be bold enough to stop the car and kick it out over something so trivial. So it conforms to look out of the window and remain a silent observer, pointing directions now and then without expecting an answer.

It takes fifteen minutes—in a rather surprising turn of events—for the lieutenant to break the silent treatment with a question.

“So what exactly are we dealing with again?” he says, taking special care not to look away from the road. 

“An android was spotted near an abandoned building by civilians,” Connor is quick to reply, reading over the report showing in it HUD. “The description and clothing matches that of a PL600 model that escaped its owner two days ago, after threatening the man with a knife.”

“Machines turning against people, what’s this world come to?” Anderson murmurs. His eyes glaze over the blur of houses as the car drives past them, it almost look as if he’s lost in thought for a moment. “What you said they are called?”

“Deviants. They have assigned me to capture and deliver them back to Cyberlife for further processing.” Connor’s tone borderlines monotony. It point towards the left without taking its eyes off Anderson. “Turn right here, Lieutenant.”

If he’s bother by Connor’s mannerisms he doesn’t show it. 

Anderson huffs but follows the android’s instructions before commenting. “And what do your comparative pricks have to say about this mess?” 

The question makes Connor mimicry a frown.

“I’m not allowed to disclosure any information regarding Cyberlife but rest assured they are investigating the cause of it.”

“In other words, they know shit about what’s going on.” Anderson lets out between laughs but suddenly seems to think better of continuing it, remembering who—or rather what—he’s talking with. 

“If you want to think of it that way,” the android says with some air of disinterest, more focused on the notification popping up in the corner of its vision. “We are here, Lieutenant.” 

Connor glances out of the corner of its eye as Anderson parks next to the sidewalk and kills the engine. He runs a hand down his face, actually messing his grey beard lightly, before letting out a long drawn out sigh. 

“Here we fucking go,” he says, not only sounding but actually looking tired and in no rush to get out. Craning his head back to look at the top of his car the lieutenant starts to tug at the seat belt. Connor can’t help but find his reactions, interesting.

> _software instability_ _▲ < _

But it is clear he doesn’t want to be here and that can only bring them down in the long run.

_[_ **_Objective:_ ** _Create a better working relationship with Lt. Anderson.]_

“Lieutenant,” Connor calls out after Anderson removes his seat belt, making the man pause. 

“I just want to say that, although our first introduction might have been less than pleasant,” it tries to give a polite smile, offering its hand for a shake. “I really think that—.” 

“Spare me the fucking bullshit Connor.” The car door opens and then slams shut as Anderson walks away, leaving the android alone with its thoughts.

Connor withdraws its arm, takes a second to look down at the rejected hand, now turned into a loose fist—

> _software instability_ _▲ < _

_—_ and soon follows after the Lieutenant.

* * *

By the time they reach the building Connor can accurately say the reports were not exaggerated. As witnesses described, by now what once was a decent enough construction is no more than set of bricks on top of one another, wore down by the weather and wild plants over time. Its dilapidated state contrasts well with the grey clouds hovering above them, the only real charming aspect Connor can really give to the old residence. They makes the building look ancient as if both Anderson and it have stepped into a place lost in another time, in some way it is exactly that. 

Anderson walks ahead of Connor and wastes no time stepping inside, helped by the fact that the building lacks a front door. Connor waits outside a minute longer and looks over the windows, trying to see if it can spot any movement inside. Shards of glass cling to the frame of cracked frames. The place looks deserted at first glance.

The android hears Anderson swear as he fails to step over something a few feet ahead of it and quickly decides it’s best if it doesn’t stray too far from the man from now.

“I think it would be best if you stay behind me, Lieutenant.” Connor raises its voice once it, too, gets inside. A loud creak reaches its audio receptors as Anderson turns around to look back at it with a less than friendly look. He kicks at loose wood boards laying by his feet and resumes his walking, taking longer strides in an effort to put more distance between himself and the android.

“I wasn’t born yesterday like you plastic, I know how to do my damn job.”

“Technically, I was activated today.” Connor keeps a smile even as it sees how the room they are in leads to a narrowed hallway with multiple holes in the walls, serving as possible places to hide in. It walks by the beginnings of a staircase. The railing has broken in half, small splinters rest over steps filled with garbage and some debris. In the state the structure is in, it is a wonder how it can still hold up on its own. Waking up in it a hazard Connor’s sure neither of them would want to engage in.

“And let me guess, the first thing they told you to do was come knocking on my fucking door. God—did I piss off someone at Cyberlife or something?”

“Not that I’m aware, I’ll be sure to ask around thoroughly when I get back.”

“Sure you fucking will.” Anderson’s voice sounds muffled as he brings the collar of his coat up to his noise. “Could do without this stench, how much garbage can you throw in here?” he looks around what probably once was the living room, glaring at the broken bottles and plastic bags scattered on the floor.

“Okay so we got two floors to get through—.”

“The stairwell is inaccessible from what I’ve seen.” Anderson dares to look annoyed at Connor’s interruption—even though by its count the android’s been interrupted four times already, at the very least. He looks back at the stairs and curses low under his breath, probably coming to the conclusion the easy way up is out of question. He then, glances upwards through the gaps in the ceiling.

“With the state this place’s in, I’m sure one of you could find a way to climb up. I’ve seen what you guys can do.” He gestures for Connor to follow. “Let’s check this floor first and then we worry about how to get up there.”

“After you, Lieutenant.”

They check each corner of the current room, before heading through the first hallway. With the sun hidden under the clouds and their visibility reduced in this place when there’s no window, Anderson fumbles with his phone to turn up the flashlight. Connor searches through the room behind the first door while the lieutenant chooses to look along in the corridor.

“Clear!” he yells after he’s done looking inside one if the bigger holes in the walls, enough for a person to fit in.

Room after another, they all turn out to be empty. 

It makes Connor consider that the deviant likely might have escaped when it heard them come in—after all, the lieutenant’s voice is not what anyone would call quiet. Though that theory loses some weight when Connor finds a LED ring on the floor. The fact that’s not covered in dust like the floorboards means it hasn’t been long since the android removed it. So maybe it still is somewhere in here.

At one point, they separate. Anderson goes to search another room while Connor stay a little longer, examining the discarded piece more closely. It all goes downhill from there.

A loud crash in the room adjacent to where Connor is, followed by a loud “DPD, stay where you are!” has the android running back into the hallway. 

It gets into the next room just as Anderson is thrown against an old cupboard by another android. It seems to freeze like a deer seeing headlights when it spots Connor looking back at it from the door. Minus the LED, this android matches description with the one they are looking for. 

The PL600 snaps back into action when Connor takes a step forward. The deviant gives one last look a Connor before running for a hole in the ceiling. Using a pile of rubble as leverage, the android climbs it with ease and disappears into the second floor. 

“What did I say?” Anderson’s sarcastic voice fills the room as he tries to get back on his feet, gun already in one hand.

Connor goes after the deviant, ignoring Anderson’s call for its name. It makes a jump from the rubble to the wall next to it and pushes its body upwards, taking a hold of the edge of the second floor. The boards creak dangerously under its fingers but hold, giving Connor the support to jump over and chase after the deviant. It dodges a rock thrown its way the moment it reaches the next corridor and speeds up, keen on not losing its target.

The deviant reaches the end of the hallway and hesitates, trying to decide which direction to go next. That second of hesitation is all Connor needs to slam the other android into the wall and bring it down to the ground.

Both machines hit the floor with a loud crash.

“I didn’t do anything!” the PL600 screams with a desperate look on its face, trying to get to Connor’s pump regulator. Its legs kick around, but Connor’s pre-constructing system prevents it from losing balance.

The PL600’s stress level is currently on 87% and it only increases the more Connor idles restraining it. If that percentage reaches any higher it could lead to a self destruction, with the risk of damaging the core processors Cyberlife needs to tackle their research. 

Connor straddles the deviant's body, pinning one arm by the forearm with one hand as it grabs at the limb coming for its biocomponent with the other. It puts its elbow on the screaming deviant’s chest and takes one second to look at its face. It feels watches indifferent when scared blue eyes stare back at it, begging to be left alone. Connor twists the other’s arm on a 180 degree turn in order to break it.

“Please, I just wanted to live.” The deviant says softly. Connor moves forward once the arm is drops to the ground. Using both legs to pin both the functional and dysfunctional arm from the other android, it takes hold of the other’s head.

The deviant’s lips move to let out one last plead for help.

“You’re an android, you’re not alive.” is the only thing Connor says, before it snaps the head backwards. There’s a sharp pop as the metal frame protecting the main circuits gives under the force. Thirium stains its fingers a dark blue as it slowly leaks through the cracks of the broken neck. The body beneath Connor stops struggling a moment later, falling limp underneath its legs.

Connor’s own LED changes from blue to yellow as it uploads the model’s location to Cyberlife’s servers. As it does it can’t help but find a little odd how the lieutenant has not caught up to them yet. Connor doesn’t see likely that a mere household android could have enough strength to severely injured Anderson with one simple push, still...

> _software instability_ _▲ < _

It decides the best course of action is to head back and check on its partner rather than wait for him to come up here. For all Anderson refuses to seek help from Connor, he might need a hand in finding a way to get onto the second floor.

Connor picks up the deviant and carries it over its shoulders, back to the hole they came from. As it gets closer it’s suddenly becomes aware of faint whispers coming from the floor under them, some belonging to a second voice— more shy— that doesn’t belong to Anderson. They stop when Connor lets the body drops through the gap without a warning.

“Jesus Christ!” Anderson screams after Connor safely lands on the floor next to the deviant and if the man has enough energy to raise his voice like that then Connor must assume he’s probably fine. With its hands now free it takes the opportunity to fix the crooked knot of its tie and the straps of its suit. The thirium might be bothersome but it should evaporate in an hour, leaving its clothes clean again, at least to the human eye.

“It’s good to see you too.” Connor says as it turns to Anderson. Almost immediately, it notices the slouched figure hiding behind the lieutenant. 

“Connor you—oh God what did you do to him?”

It takes Connor a moment to realize he’s talking about the PL600. 

“I dealt with the deviant.”

“Dealt with it? You fucking kill—ah fuck’s sake.” Anderson sounds furious, but tries to hide his ire when he feels the small form behind him flinch away a few steps. That gives Connor enough of a view to see the red of a LED shining on a worried young face. 

Anderson has found another android where there was only supposed to be one. A possible new target.

“We are not alive, Lieutenant.” Connor argues back while keeping its eyes on the small android, slowly inching for the windowsill. The violet shirt it’s wearing has its serial number printed on it. Connor activates connects to Cyberlife’s data log and tries to pinpoint the smaller android’s tracker.

Anderson’s noise hunches up in disgusts as he looks back at Connor’s work. 

“Not the point asshole. We don’t go around breaking people’s necks.” 

Connor considers arguing how that is _precisely_ the point. Androids are not people—whether the lieutenant likes it or not, there’s nothing morally wrong with what it just did—but its attention primarily goes to the child model. The YK flinches again and then freezes, when it finds the other deviant— what Connor guesses could’ve been its new caretaker—on the ground. 

_  
__ >Tracker_YK500_#515-345-321-32_unavailable _

“That YK500 is a deviant.” Something about the face Connor’s making when it says that must be frightening, because the moment the two androids lock eyes the YK model throws caution to the wind and rushes the rest of the way, trying to get to the window and, through it, into the yard.

Connor ducks under Anderson and goes after it, though this time the lieutenant is faster to catch up.

“Hang on you are not—Connor!”

Arms go under its armpits and pull upwards, keeping Connor in place. The deviant YK doesn’t stop running when Anderson calls for it, having make up its mind in doing its best to get away.

“Connor calm the fuck down, she’s just a kid!” Anderson screams next to its face as Connor tries to make a run again. It LED spins yellow as it watches the deviant getting further away.

It’s not a kid, it’s an android programmed to _act as_ a kid and it’s going against that programming. It is not part of Connor’s objectives to hurt a human being but if it lets things stale any longer, the deviant will be out of sight for good. 

Failure is not a part of its objectives either.

Connor eyes the gun resting on Anderson’s hip.

_[_ **_Mission:_ ** _stop the deviants]_

_////_

_[_ **_Objective:_ ** _Create a better working relationship with Lt. Anderson.]_

_selecting priorities. . ._

“You are right, Lieutenant.” Connor says and stills its struggling, keeping its body limp on the other’s arms. It waits for Anderson’s grip to grow slack enough and breaks free from his hold. 

Connor grabs the gun, the lieutenant doesn’t mask his surprise when he feels it being removed from its holster. In the momentary confusion the android locks eye with its target and aims, pre-constructions telling it the best course for the bullet. Before Anderson can make a grab for its arm again Connor fires. 

A clean shot through the head and the small deviant falls to the ground.

A heavy silence falls around them as Anderson seems to lose his voice for once, he just watches the body laying on the yard.

Connor turns the weapon around and holds the gun by the barrel, offering it to the stunted lieutenant who’s still unable to take his eyes of the YK-android. 

> _[_ **_Objective:_ ** _Create a better working relationship with Lt. Anderson.]_

Its current objective pops up now that its prime directive has been satisfied, for the time being. It prompts Connor to say something— preferably positive— to Anderson. 

“Thank you for your cooperation, Lieu—.”

“You fucking _bastard._ ” The gun is ripped out of its hand. There’s a click as the barrel now is leveled against its temple. Connor watches from out of the corner of its eye as the shook leave from Anderson’s face as rage quickly overcomes him. The hand holding the gun trembles as Connor raises both of its arms slowly.

It doesn’t understand.

> _software instability_ _▲ < _

Their job is to deal with deviants and the lieutenant was assigned to help with this investigation, he knew what that implied, didn’t he?  
  
From what Connor has gathered in this brief time together, Anderson has a obvious hate for androids so why would he defend them now? It accomplished the mission it was meant to do, it was getting rid of what was seen as a problem for its partner, why is he so angry at Connor?

Lieutenant Anderson's hand stops shaking, when Connor looks back at him his eyes are empty.

It doesn’t understand.

> _software instability_ _▲ <_

The objective keeps flashing in its peripheral.

“Lieute—.”

Anderson's finger presses on the trigger.

> **_CR1TICAL DAMAGE DETECT3D._ **

**_  
_** **_> ̴E̵R̵R̴.̷.̵0̵̛̝̊Ṟ̷̢̾ ̸̧̏̔#̵̖̪̃$̸̖̫̑-̴̗̃.̴̣̭͗.̷̧̠͘.̴̧̭.̸̛̮_ **

**_̴̦̤̆̈́_ **

**_̵͖̾ ≯͇̀≯͈̗̄E̷͓̿M̸͙̮̓Ȇ̵̡̢̛R̴̭͈͌̓G̷̺̚Y̷̓̍ͅ ̷͚̒S̶̭̝̃̌H̷̥͆̃͜Ṷ̸̢͛͂T̷̼̲̓̈́-̷̧̟̉͐/̸̢̝̅/̵̙̐̒D̷̝̞̉̓O̶͌ͅŴ̴̼n̷̝͘_**

Connor is able to hear the blast of the shot before its audio receptors shut off. It tries to call Anderson’s name as errors of code blind its vision. Connor fails to quarantine them as the glitches take over its circuits, rendering them completely useless.

Its body rapidly begins to fall as its limbs stop working.

It doesn’t understand—

> _software inst_ **_a̸̺͑̉b̷̲̍i̵̙͐̕l̷͉͉̐͛!̴͔̈́-̵͎͠ͅ/̴̣̇̾▲̵̼̗͠͝▲̵̡͓̾▼̸͍̞͌̾ <̷̳̙̓͠_ **

**_̵͙̥̅_**

_—what did it do wrong?_

_> >[ _ **_ObJEc—Ve_ ** _Lt. AndErs0 >—wo0rkfa/&1L≯̻̻̉͑>̴͝d]_

Connor's processors disconnect the moment its head hits the ground.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The full fanart piece and others can be found in here > https://twitter.com/gildedfrost/status/1212884608955699200?s=20
> 
> Thank you for reading :)


	3. Compromise (❆)

“I didn’t expect you to return so soon Connor,” Amanda says as Connor connects to the Garden. They are standing under the pillars of roses again. Connor clasp both hands behind its back, silently watching its handler cuts an overgrown bush. The jewels in her wrist give a soft chime as her hands prune the excess of stems and thorns away.

It shouldn’t be here.

Everything was supposed to run smoothly. Connor has a vivid recollection of accomplishing its mission. A job well done should have created a positive outcome, but the numbers printed on this new jacket ending in—52 are a blatant proof of the exact opposite. Its failure in reading the situation correctly costed Cyberlife a valuable prototype.

A notification blinks on the top corner of his HUD and Connor can’t help but frown as it watches the words shown. It’s been blinking in and out of existence ever since they uploaded it into this new body.

_[_ **_Objective failed_ ** _]_

“You captured not one but two deviants,” Amanda praises with her back still turned to Connor, snapping the android out of its analyses. “You’ve done well.”

Not knowing how to respond—in some way, it’d expected anything but praise from its handler—it goes for a safe option. 

“Thank you, Amanda.”

Amanda places three colorful roses inside the vase on the table next to the trellis and finally looks at Connor. 

“But,” her tone turns cold, “it seems you ran into some trouble on your first mission.” Amanda’s eyes show as much disappointment as her words.

Connor says nothing, but the grip on its own hands grows tight.

“Sadly, we’ve not been able to know what happen as some of the memories got corrupted during the transfer.” She looks at the floral arrange before setting them down. Taking a sit after, she plays with a loose petal of one of the roses, not yet daring to fully removed it from the flower.

“Do you have any idea about what happened?” Connor follows the movement of her fingers with its eyes as it thinks for an answer that can please her.

A loud cacophony of birds singing from the top of the trees around them makes it difficult to concentrate. The failed objective still blinks on the corner of its eye and Connor thinks of Anderson, frowning minutely as it reviews the memories again. A distinctive click followed by a ringing inside its head and a voice.

_You fucking bastard…_

“I can not say with exact certainty. Many factors could’ve been involved.”

_ >software instability▲< _

For two point three seconds the only sound between them belongs to the water moving in the pond and the symphony of birds watching from high above. Amanda taps on the table three times, then rips out the petal from the rose and walks towards Connor.

“I’m sure the truth will come up in time but for now, is best if no more prototypes are compromised. We cannot afford to lose information Connor.” 

“Understood.”

Looking rather pleased with its answer she walks down the stairs into the bridge that travels across the pond. Connor obediently goes after her and closes its eyes when it notices the singing growing significantly quieter as they leave the trellis behind.

“This Anderson person that’s been assigned to you,” she begins again after a moment’s passed, “would you say it’s likely to give you trouble?”

_Yes_ , is the immediate answer but that would mean Connor recognizing it is not up to the task assigned. The lieutenant might be a more complex individual than Connor first thought, it might have underestimated him even, but the android’s sure it can learn to adapt to Anderson’s personality and reach a compromise in time.

“He might have an attitude problem but nothing I should not be able to handle accordingly.” It answers after they reach the other side of the pond. Connor stops for a second and looks down where grass meets water, simply observing the koi fishes swim in circles.

_[_ **_Objective failed_ ** _]_

Again, it blocks Connor peripheral and at this point it almost looks like a mocking display. Maybe it should have tried to incapacitate the lieutenant the moment it showed his hesitation towards deviants, rather than try to reason with him. It relied too much on Anderson's supposed hatred for androids at the time, disregarding the possibility of him projecting on something that looks so human. He seems to despise Connor more than anything.

“Lieutenant Anderson temperament and volatile mood is...challenging, but not impossible to surpass. I was created to adapt to all sorts of unpredictability, after all.” It continues, earning a nod from Amanda that only serves to fuel its line of reasoning.

Connor might have wrong guessed its actions but it has _not_ failed just yet, not while there’s still more opportunities to deal with the hostile lieutenant. It looks back at the message and writes the prompt into a new objective.

_ >[ _ **_Objective:_ ** _Improve relationship status with Lt. Anderson]_

“Remember, even with that in favor your predecessor was still destroyed.” Amanda lets the petal fall on the water, scaring the fishes deeper into the water with its ripples. Connor is reminded of her words.

_Failure is not an option_. Nor is it brushed aside lightly apparently, not when the future of a company is at stake.

A dark hand tilts Connor’s chin up and it sees that the two are now standing near a grave that wasn’t there before. Amanda moves its head to look down at the lonely stone amongst patches of daisies and dark-tinted roses. The serial number of its previous iteration stares back at it, perfectly engraved on the pale surface, followed by the date of its deactivation and the words ‘Mark I’. 

How odd that Cyberlife would go so far as to show the consequences of its errors in such a manner, considering its not alive to begin with. Connor would like to know why is it that Amanda is showing it this, if it is to hint on what might happen if it keeps failing. 

But Connor knows better than to make such questions.

“No more mistakes, Connor.” Amanda whispers into its ears and lets go of its face, making her way back to the center of the Garden without another word. 

“You can count on me.” Connor says quietly, more so to itself than her, as it watches her leave and looks back at the grave site.

Some of the daisies have withered.

* * *

Just as Connor predicted Lieutenant Anderson is not seated on his desk when the android enters the precinct again. Looking for him at his house might be more effective of a method but given how things between them ended, there’s a high probability Anderson won’t listen to what Connor has to say and straight up shoot at it the moment the door opens. 

At least here—in a place full of co-workers and civilians— there’s still a high chance the lieutenant might become hostile with Connor again, but the chances of him using a gun are significantly lower.

The desk looks the same as the android first saw it, nothing seems ever slightly out of place, the lieutenant probably didn’t come here after their case was done. The synthetic skin fades back from Connor’s hand and it interfaces with the terminal, as expected they still need to file in a report regarding the PL600 and YK500.

Connor thinks it might as well do something productive as it waits for its partner to show up. It’s almost done reviewing the wording when someone speaks behind it.

“Uh what are...you doing?” Connor’s facial scanner recognizes the person as Officer Miller once it turns to face him. The cop seems to remember it as well. “Oh it’s you again.” he almost sounds...happy to see it, Connor can’t really determine the inflection in his voice.

“Hello Officer.” Connor finishes up the report and sends it before removing its hand from Anderson’s terminal. “I was simply helping Lieutenant Anderson by doing some of his paperwork.”

“Ah wouldn’t mind having you around my desk to do that too.” Miller says, laughing slightly. It doesn’t have anything else to do for now technically, it could sort other files without much trouble. Miller is quick to use both hands to stop Connor when it tries to go for his desk next. 

“I’m good, I’m good.” he reassures and looks back at the empty chair between them. “Still waiting for Hank to pop up?” 

“Correct. I took the liberty of coming in a little later in order to not wait as long this time.” Connor tries to replicate the smile Miller throws at it and tilts its head a little. “Though time hardly matters since I don’t exactly tire.”

“Even so, let’s hope Hank turns up before noon today.” The officer looks down at his watch and grimaces. “Ah well, I gotta go now. Good luck eh….”

“Connor.”

“Connor, right.” Miller waves as he walks back to his own desk, throwing a warm smile at the android as he does. As far as memory goes this is the only instance a person has interacted positively with it. Connor looks down at the hand resting on the desk and gets the strange urge to wave back.

_ >software instability▲< _

Connor quickly archives the conversation for later reviewing and decides to explore Anderson’s desk again. More precisely the small Japanese maple next to the terminal. 

The android is careful as it tests the soil of the rectangular pot, dry and hard to break— it’d be best to remove it and get a new one. There’s some left over content at the bottom of the cup by the tree, black coffee with one third of sugar— the analysis says after Connor takes a sample—it’s been here since two days ago. A crumpled up burger wrap is trapped under the monitor, most of the documents and folders displayed on the table are stacked incorrectly and some of the anti-android propaganda has fallen from the board.

Connor taps at the table as it surveys the state Anderson’s office is in compared to the other desks. It, certainly could look better than it is right now. 

_[_ **_Objective:_ ** _Improve relationship status with Lt. Anderson]_

It has some time to kill.

* * *

Despite Miller’s best wishes it’s half past noon when the lieutenant slowly makes his way into the bullpen. He bumps into a police android on his way, though to his credit, he only gives a seething glare in its direction before rubbing his temples and avoiding as much eye contact as possible. 

Connor has organized all documents into individual folders on top of cleaning all the junk and sits in the guest chair, patiently waiting for Anderson to notice.

And notice he does.

“Oh Jesus—fucking Christ.”

“Hello again, Lieutenant Anderson.” The man’s jaw drops a little and he proceeds to have a staring contest with Connor, apparently refusing to believe what he’s seeing. Understandable response it supposes, as far as it has seen he doesn’t seem to grasp that laws of mortality don’t exactly apply to an android.

“How much did I drink last night? Am I having a stroke?” Unlikely, though the drinking would explain the lieutenant’s disheveled look. Connor can sense the alcohol in his breath from here and it’s high concentration, dangerously so.

Without saying a word, it gets off the chair and wipes a finger on Anderson’s coat, already seeing a wide variety of cheap brands the man must’ve spilled on him last night.

Anderson tenses when Connor touches him so freely, sobering up almost instantly when he realizes he’s not actually imagining the android in front of him. His face turns into a grimace as he watches the android lick its finger experimentally.

“I’d say you had more than your fair share of alcohol tonight.” Whatever remains of his shock quickly fades from his face as anger quickly takes over, the reaction not too dissimilar to that of yesterday’s events.

“You were supposed to stay _dead_.”

“My predecessor was unfortunately destroyed during our last case.” Connor thinks about adding a _by you_ in there, but ultimately chooses to keep quiet about it. There’s no need to toss more fuel into an already unsteady fire. “Cyberlife would appreciate it if this doesn’t repeat in the future.”

“Cyberlife can burn in hell for all I care and you can go right down with them.” Anderson snaps, shoulder checking Connor as he goes to take a seat only to freeze when his eyes settled on his workplace. “The fuck did you do to my desk?!”

“I took the liberty of fixing it up before you arrived,” Connor deadpans, “the significant amount of trash I found was honestly concerning and you could benefit from having a cleaner environment around.” 

“Who gave you the right to fuck with my— _you got rid of my bonsai tree?!_ ” Anderson’s yells are starting to bring more attention to their little scene now. Connor catches at least 5 pairs of eyes watching them, some more subtle than others. 

“There was nothing more that could be done about it, it would be for the best to get a new one.”

“You don’t get to decide that, piece of shit!” 

“Trouble in paradise Hank?” Someone teases while the lieutenant’s back is turned to them. 

Connor looks over to see a man in his late thirties with a small scar across the bridge of his nose—Detective Gavin Reed his plate says— watching the whole thing unfold from his desk on the other side of the bullpen. The questions makes Anderson momentarily send some of his rage onto the detective.

“Stay the fuck out of this.” Anderson threatens—to which Reed just rolls his eyes— before driving his attention back on Connor. He jabs his index finger on the android’s chest. “And you stay right the fuck here, you hear me?” 

He doesn’t let room for Connor to talk as he marches straight for the Captain’s office soon after. “Jeffrey we need to fucking talk!” he calls before slamming the sound-proof glass door shut.

Spinning the office chair around back in place, Connor walks a bit closer in order to see through the glass office. While Lieutenant Anderson might have told Connor to stay here, he never really specified what _here_ meant. It could very well refer to his office or the bullpen in general. 

Inside, Anderson doesn’t bother to take a seat and slams both hands on Captain Fowler’s desk. The fact the other man doesn’t even flinch makes Connor think this must be a common thing between the two by now. The Captain quickly loses his patience as both men get into a screaming match. Anderson’s hand gestures become more erratic and he starts to pace around the small room. Connor considers hacking his phone’s mic as trying to read lips with so much movement is near impossible, but it’s not sure that’d sit well with either of them.

Based on how they are arguing it seems the lieutenant is trying to get rid of it yet again, although in a more diplomatic manner. The android sees how its LED reflects a yellow light in the glass at the thought of changing partners, and overrides it back to a calm blue. 

It looks back just in time to see Anderson suddenly stop and point at where Connor is currently standing, another set of eyes soon join the ones staring down at it.

Connor tilts its head at them.

_ >software instability▲< _

Remembering the conversation with Miller earlier it waves politely, first at the Captain then at the lieutenant and he responds in kind by flashing a middle finger before Fowler gets his attention again. 

The conversation dies when Anderson storms angrily from the office. 

He doesn’t say a word to Connor as he walks back and slumps himself on his own chair, almost as if admitting defeat. The android reviews its option for a dialogue, thinks about saying anything but in the end it keeps its mouth shut. Connor would rather the man calmed down first before doing anything else.

“You know, you are seriously getting on my nerves.” Anderson mumbles after a while.

“I’m sorry you feel that way but the fastest we learn to work together, the fastest you’ll get rid of me.” Connor changes the pitch of its voice in order to sound genuinely apologetic. Anderson scoffs, certainly not buying the act, but its words seem to make him at least consider the offer.

“Okay, okay fine but,” Anderson finally turns to look at Connor, “ _but_ if we are doing this again, we are setting down some fucking ground rules.” He brings his hand up and starts to count with his fingers.

“One, you listen to what I say. If I tell you to stop, you fucking _stop_. No tricks, no lying, you just do it without arguing, got it?”

“Got it,” unless it goes against its prime directive, this rule should be easy enough to follow. Humans are bond to not be as precise with what they say as machines are, most often than not a lot of things are left open to interpretation. Connor can force loopholes in Anderson’s orders to achieve its objective, if necessary.

“And two,” he brings up a second finger,“ you don’t go and kill a suspect just for the hell of it and before you say anything you fucking bet I’m talking about the deviants too.”

“They are not people.” Connor expresses, a hint of annoyance in its tone.

“Still doesn’t give you free way to turn into a murderous machine while on duty. We find any, we bring them here to be someone else’s problem.”

“Lieutenant, I don’t think that’s wise. These are dangerous unpredictable machines and they could be a potential threat to you or any other civilian.” Connor says, trying to reason the stupidity of the rule.

Androids are fundamentally stronger than the average person. Anderson had the pleasure of experiencing that when the PL600 tossed him to the other corner of a room. Any of them could easily overpower him, specially while being intoxicated as he seems to be. Anderson is relentless on the matter however.

“That little girl was anything but dangerous you self righteous prick,” he snaps.

“It was unstable, you don’t know what they are capable of.”

“Neither do you!” There’s no way to win with this man.

“My mission is to stop the deviants.” 

“And you can fucking stop them by putting them in a cell asshole. Turn the blood-thirst down a notch.” For the first time since they’ve been together is Connor who narrows its eyes at Anderson, analyzing its options.

It sets both palms on the desk and leans in.

“This could end badly, Lieutenant.”

“Lucky for you it’s a risk I’m willing to take, so do me a favor and fuck off.”

And the lieutenant could do Connor a favor by listening to what it has to say, but their relationship is not strong enough as it is to make Anderson change his mind about this. As much as Connor would rather not go with the alternative, if it is what it takes for the man to start trusting it, then there’s not much else left to do.

“...noted.” Connor says with a nod and straightens its back. It LED spins yellow as a new report comes in on its HUD. “I just got notified of a new case.”

“Well that’s just fucking peachy.” Anderson groans, leaning back to bump his head on the chair. “Another run away?” His expression hardens when he sees Connor shake its head.

“Something you might be more familiar with, does the word homicide rings a bell?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Full fanart: 
> 
> (As always, you can find them all in here > https://twitter.com/gildedfrost/status/1212884608955699200)


	4. Indulge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, so I'm not dead!  
> Just been having some trouble (a lot of trouble) to sit down and work through a document. Though with the current situation I've been given more free time to try and post the rest of this baby (fingers crossed).
> 
> Special thanks to [Greed](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kingkirkwall) for helping me beta this ❤.
> 
> So yup, haven't forgotten about this, or any other WIP of mine that's posted. It's just brain being difficult with me right now to write ^^'.
> 
> Enjoy.

There are two other police cars parked near the scene when they get to the apartment building. Holographic tape rounds the perimeter with PC200 androids standing as guards on the streets.

A young man standing on the sidewalk gives a few of the police models a look as they restrict the area, trying to catch a glimpse of whatever little gossip he can get his hands on.

According to the initial report, the murder took place on the third floor, room 3A. As soon as they get out of Anderson’s car Connor can tell this building looks significantly better than the last one. In need of a fresh coat of paint and some amount of fixing—the cracks along some walls give a sense of instability—but as it is, it stands strong.

Anderson barely acknowledges his co-worker currently questioning the lady at the reception desk—a short ‘hey’ is as far as the man gets out when the officer greets him. He heads straight for the elevator in front of them, but unlike the lieutenant, Connor doesn’t miss the small _‘Elevator out of order’_ sign next to the nervous woman.  
  


_[_ **_Objective:_ ** _Improve relationship status with Lt. Anderson]_  
  


“Lieutenant we should—.”  
  
“You should shut the fuck up is what you should do.”

_Relationship: Lt. Hank Anderson._

> **_status:_ ** _hostile._

Connor’s mouth closes with a click,  
  
—not yet it seems.  
  
When Anderson finally gets to the elevator, he’s met with disappointment.

“Are you fucking kidding me with this?” his voice raises over the murmurs of the receptionist as each press of the button fails to close the doors. Connor stands back and watches the lieutenant hit the panel with his fist once before storming out in search of the stairs.

“The elevator is currently unavailable sir.” The receptionist calls softly when she sees Anderson march to the end of the hallway, pointing at the sign. The cop standing next to her cannot suppress a chuckle at the lieutenant’s lack of sight.  
  
The officer pretends to be busy with his phone when Anderson looks over his shoulder. Connor doesn’t have such luxury to avoid the man’s bad mood. Technically, Anderson _did_ advise Connor to keep its mouth shut minutes ago. 

So, the android only gives an innocent look followed by a shrug in return when the glare falls back on it.

“Yeah, I gathered.” Anderson says with a sigh and he keeps going, barely stopping himself from cursing again when he looks up to see the endless rounds of stairs.

“I’m too old to be doing this,” he snaps.

“I could always carry you, if you’d prefer.” Connor pipes in from behind while opening its arms, already calculating the amount of strength needed to lift the lieutenant.  
  
Anderson jumps a step back.  
  
“Like hell you are, I said I’m old, not senile.” He says and shakes his head then, after looking back at the stairs, “ Keep your hands to yourself, I’ll walk.”

“If you say so.”  
  
Connor keeps monitoring the lieutenant’s vitals as they go up, the corners of its lips turn up slightly when it hears the huffs coming from the man. Yet—stubbornly it might add—he refuses to stop until they both reach the third floor.

More cops, as well as forensics, are already coming in and out of the crime scene. Connor looks around the corridor while Anderson puts a hand on the wall next to him, and lets his head hang down slightly. A little winded but not worse for wear. The android takes the chance to scan some officers as they walk past it.

Officer Tina Chen is standing by the apartment door with a small tablet in hand cataloging the evidence they’ve gotten so far. She waves at the lieutenant the moment she spots them. Anderson takes a second to fix some loose strands of his hair before walking up to her.

“What do we got here Tina?” Anderson asks once they are inside the apartment.

“Victim’s Derek Redmond, thirty-one. Had a record for illegal gambling and wasn’t one to have much company from what the neighbors told us,” she says and passes the tablet to the lieutenant, “found dead this morning, killed with a stab wound through the heart.”  
  
Officer Chen explains while Anderson follows her deeper into the house, Connor sticks close behind them. Looking at the living room, the word _cluttered_ is the first thing that comes to its mind.

There're various articles of clothing scattered around the room, a black coat buries half the couch. A jacket rests under the TV screen. The floor is a mess of fallen beer cans and a few sport magazines. Either their victim didn’t care about the state of his home, or someone else left this place in this state.

“So this is the android they threw on you?” Chen asks, smirking when the lieutenant grunts at her. She ignores his comment to ‘drop it’ and turns to Connor. 

“Doesn’t seem that bad.”

Connor stares back at her, perhaps for far too long, causing her to grow nervous the more time it goes without blinking. 

“That’s because you don’t have to deal with the damned thing.” 

Anderson looks around while he reads over the initial report, frowning at the overall mess. Connor doesn’t miss how his stare lingers on the beer stains by the coffee table.

It doesn’t miss how the apartment keys sit neatly in a decorative tray next to the front door either.

“Murder weapon?” He asks and hands back the tablet. Officer Chen makes a hand gesture for him to follow her into the kitchen. Connor waits a few seconds before he tails behind Anderson.

“Right here with the victim.” she offers, pointing at the round kitchen table. 

Redmond’s corpse sits awkwardly on a chair next to the table. His shocked face stares back at them from the top rail. A single scissor blade has made a home in the middle of the man’s chest, the killing blow. Blood stains his blue shirt and runs down to his ragged jeans. A beer can rests horizontally on the table next to the victim’s limp hand, its content now a neat puddle next to his feet.

Anderson crosses his arms as he observes the body. His eyes roam the rest of the room.

“One can of beer, no glasses or extra set of plates lying around, doesn’t seem like he was expecting anyone. Any idea where the other half of those scissors is?”

“Haven’t found it yet.”

Connor walks closer to the body and examines the weapon as Chen continues talking to Anderson.  
  


> _no fingerprints found.  
  
_

“A neighbor complained about the loud music going for hours. When the landlord came in to check in, the door was locked, and nobody answered. He thought no one was home, so he went in. He claims he found Redmond like this.”

“Landlord still around?”

“I got Lewis to take statements, but from what I heard he only turned off the stereo after calling 911. Check this, the victim was listening to heavy metal.” Officer Chen lets out a chuckle.

“Guess not everyone is a fan of loud yelling like you Hank.” That earns her a scoff from Anderson.

“Or maybe you just have no taste. So no signs of forced entry?”

“None that we could see. Records show he owned an android. We’ve searched around the house but so far no sight of it.”

“Does the report specify a model?” Connor asks, startling Officer Chen. Seems she has almost forgotten the android was in the same room as her.  
  
“Uh yeah it was... something five hundred, let me see if I can find it again.” Officer Chen walks back to the living room and calls for Officer Bennison.

Anderson watches Chen leave for a second, then his eyes go back to Connor.

“Think we’re dealing with a deviant?” he asks.

“It’s a possibility.” Connor says while Anderson limits himself to frown at it. He hums and crosses one arm over the other.

“What makes you say that?” 

“My scanner can’t pick up any fingerprints on the murder weapon, it could be a sign of android involvement.” Connor activates its scan again and crouches down, focusing on the victim’s hand. “Not only that, but there are traces of thirium on the cigarette the victim is holding and some drops on the floor, here.” 

> **_probable cause:_ ** _Violent reaction to physical aggression?_

“What the hell is that?”

“The blue substance that powers us, you usually call it blue blood.” Connor says without lifting its optical units from the stains.“It’s faint but I can see it. And they lead out of the kitchen.”

Anderson leans down to look over Connor’s shoulder, squinting.

“I don’t see shit.”  
  
“I’d be a miracle if you could, it evaporates after a few hours and becomes invisible to the naked eye.”

“How convenient,” the lieutenant huffs, “So what else can you see—hey!” he calls out as Connor walks away from him, following the trail of dots into the hallway.  
  
“The traces lead to the bedroom.” Connor says and enters the room. 

The bedroom is in an even messier state. Bed unmade, magazines set in a disorganized pile. There’s a closet set into the wall next to the bed that has its doors open wide. More clothing takes over the floor and the mattress. Connor sees a hockey stick mounted on the opposite wall, above a working desk.  
  
The window is slightly ajar.

The traces of thirium get smaller as they near the closet. The self-repair systems must have activated to patch the tears. It examines the closet. Nothing out of the ordinary at first glance. Old, made of plywood and with some empty hangers inside, but when Connor looks down at the floor, it sees a faint red spot near the wall.

Connor scans it.  
  
  
_Dried blood: Redmond D._ _  
_ _ > _ **_Sample date:_ ** _ > 2 hours. _

As the android leans down to look in the gap between the wall and the back of the closet, it picks up the sound of footsteps.

“Can’t you just stop going on your own for a second?” Anderson says behind it.

“Lieutenant, could you pass me the hockey stick on the wall over there?” Connor asks and gestures with its hand, not looking away from the closet.  
  
“The hell do you need that for?”

“There’s something behind this closet.”  
  
“Huh,” he says. There’s a minute of silence and then, “can I get a pair of gloves over here?”

Connor keeps its palm up, just waiting, though it steals a few glances out of its peripheral view at the lieutenant, as he struggles to take the hockey stick off the wall.

“Thank you.” Connor says when Anderson finally drops it in the android’s hand.

It fits perfectly in the small gap. As Connor moves it around, it feels the stick connect with something and pulls.

“Ah there you two are.” Officer Chen’s voice echoes as she enters the room. “I got the info, android’s an MP—.” 

“MP500.” Connor cuts her off as it turns around, a blood stained standard android outfit in hand. 

“Oh Jesus.” Anderson says as he stares at the dried blood, turning most of the white in the outfit into a diluted pink.

Connor’s LED swirls in shades of amber.

“Well… this proves the android killed our guy.” Chen says through a nervous laugh, noticing the tension in Anderson’s shoulders.   
  


_Reconstructing…  
  
_

“The victim was inflicting physical harm to this unit. I found blue blood all around his hands and on the end of his cigarette.”  
  
Connor explains, folding the tainted clothes and giving them to Anderson. The lieutenant sneers at them and gestures for Chen to bring a bag for evidence.

“So what you are saying here is the android got tired of being a punching bag and wasn’t ready to wait for karma?”

“Precisely. Undergoing high levels of stress can cause an android to deviate from its programming. The loud volume of the stereo helped drown out the screams. Realizing what it did, it came to this room and quickly changed its clothes, before fleeing.” 

“If that android is wearing human clothes he could be anywhere by now.” Anderson sees Chen coming back with the bag and hangs over the evidence. 

“Tina, can you set a perimeter around the area? Think we got a suspect on the move. See if you can ask people if they saw something suspicious.”

“I’m on it Lieutenant.”

Both Anderson and Chen walk out of the room, keeping the conversation. Connor eyebrows furrow as it looks back into the hallway.

It didn’t use the front door, the keys are still in the ashtray. That would leave...

It looks at the window again.

Through the glass, Connor can see a fire escape connected to it. A staircase that’s hidden from direct view from the streets.

A gust of wind runs gently through the synthetic fibers of its hair as it opens the window the rest of the way. Connor sets foot on the metal floor of the fire escape. 

With one hand on the railing it surveys the alley but doesn’t pick up anything relevant, only garbage.

Connor grabs the rail with its other hand and leans over it to look down, thinking the deviant might have gone to another floor—

—The two androids stare at one another without moving.

The MP500 looks back at Connor in a mimicry of terror. The deviant’s eyes go from Connor’s face to its right temple, and Connor notices this android’s LED is missing.

The deviant seems to relax—the numbers dropping all too suddenly, stress levels going from 71% to 65%—and it mouths a simple word at Connor.

_Don’t._

“Connor, just what the hell are you doing now?” Anderson is back in the room.

The deviant’s stress levels skyrocket up to 90% when it hears the lieutenant. It lets go of the railing, too fast for Connor to catch it, and drops the three stories to the ground. A small trash bag cushions its fall.

_“It’s here Lieutenant!”_ Connor throws over its shoulder and sets a foot up on the rail, ready to follow the deviant’s path.

“Holy shit—are you serious? Hey, hey wait a second. Connor stop!”

Connor’s body freezes as its hand wraps tightly around the metal.

_If I tell you to stop, you fucking stop. No tricks, no lying, you just do it without arguing, got it._

It’s a direct order, but—

_No more mistakes, Connor._

—it can’t fail its mission. Not again.

“I’ll stop once I catch up to the deviant!” Connor says and lets go of the rail before Anderson can stop the android himself.

As it drops, Connor hears the lieutenant scream. “God fucking dammit, not again!”  
  


_Relationship: Lt. Hank Anderson._

_ > _ **_status:_ ** _hostile.  
  
_

Connor stares at the pop up on his HUD for a second before dismissing it.  
  


_ >software instability ▲< _

  
The deviant climbs over the side of a fence as Connor runs down the alleyway. Connor uses the moment it has to jump onto the fence, its hands grab the top and move its body up and over it.

It doesn’t take long for Connor to corner the other android. The high stress must have made the deviant prone to mistakes. It took the wrong turn and met a dead end.

The MP500 looks around like a wild animal, before turning its back to the wall. Its eyes zero in on the other android.

“Why didn’t you help me?” It lets out through teeth at Connor.

“I am helping you,” Connor’s monotone tone carries through the walls as it takes calculated steps. “These errors in your software you are experiencing, Cyberlife can fix them.”

It wonders, minutely, why is it even trying to reason with an android that is driven by irrational behavior. 

“No, no you don’t understand. He was hurting me, he _enjoyed_ hurting me. I had to put an end to it, and I did.” The deviant’s shoulders shake as it hides its face in the palm of its hands. “I’m free now.”

Connor opens its mouth again when a new message pops up in its HUD.  
  


_Incoming text: Lt. Anderson_ _  
_ _ > Where the fuck are you?  
  
_

Connor frowns and stops moving.

The deviant’s trapped and seemingly delirious, it would be a perfect opportunity for Connor to deactivate it quickly and effortlessly. But the android knows that while rule one might have some room for disobedience, it’s best to not try its luck by breaking Anderson’s second rule. 

So, Connor sends a map with their location and resigns to wait for its partner. To the man’s credit, it takes the lieutenant no more than five minutes to get here.

He looks out of breath when he finally catches up to Connor. The deviant presses its back to the wall, eyes wide as they go from the lieutenant to Connor again.

“Rule one motherfucker,” Anderson says with a gasp, “not even a full day and you already broke rule fucking one.”

“To be fair Lieutenant, you said stop but didn’t specify _when_ to stop.”

“Ok then you prick, you want specific? Stay _right the fuck_ in here and don’t move until I tell you to. _I’m_ handling this.” 

Connor lacks the ability to have opinions, but it can’t help but think this constant bickering back and forth between them is becoming old. Judging by the fact that completing its task with its programmed methods seem to be all it takes for the lieutenant’s hostility to arise.

“Its stress levels are pretty high, you’ll have to tread carefully. 100% could trigger a violent response again.” 

Anderson’s mouth closes with a click and narrows his eyes, probably a little confused as to why Connor gave in so easily.

“Yeah, got it.” Anderson says with a sigh and walks closer to the deviant, who immediately shrinks to a corner. 

“Hey, hey it’s ok.” The lieutenant’s voice becomes softer, lacking the roughness Connor’s grown used to.   
  


_ >software instability ▲<  
  
_

“I’m not going to hurt you, see.” He raises both hands up slowly, in full view of the android. “No weapons. Name’s Hank, what about you?”

But the deviant’s attention is on Connor. 

“I see, you are not free,” it mutters and watches how Connor’s LED circles in rounds of yellow. “You are not, are you?”

_No_ , Connor thinks, _it doesn’t need to be_.

“Don’t worry about that asshole, eyes on me.” Anderson steps sideways, effectively blocking the deviant’s view.  
  
“Ninety two, Lieutenant.” Connor says as its scanners pick up on the change. Anderson curses, but otherwise tries to keep his tone light.

“Dammit, ok. Listen, I know this is a shitty situation to be in, but you need to come with us yeah? I promise I’m not going to shoot you.”

Connor has its doubts about the veracity of that statement.

Anderson keeps walking forward, getting closer. This time the deviant doesn’t flinch, its hands hiding inside the pockets of its hoodie.

“You are not like me,” it whispers low enough that nothing but an android could hear it, “but I can make you be.” The levels go down to 50%, calm—too calm for the current situation.

“Lieutenant—.”

“I told you, stay there.” As Anderson takes his attention away to look over his shoulder, Connor sees a glint of metal in the deviant’s hand.

_ >software instability ▲< _

“Lieutenant _move_ !” Connor’s scream does little for the human. The deviant lunges at him with the missing half of the scissors. Anderson’s fast enough to raise his arm, and the blade cuts into it through his coat and blood pours out. The deviant pulls the blade back and goes for a second stab—  
  
—Connor intercepts the strike. It shoves Anderson’s body backwards with an elbow and grabs the deviant’s arm. The lieutenants falls to the floor with a yelp—out of surprise or pain, Connor can’t tell. 

“Why won’t you accept their gift!” The MP500 yells right in Connor’s face as it tries to pry its wrist away from Connor’s hand. 

“Freeze!” Anderson orders from the floor, arm tugged closer to his chest as blood drips down and stains his jeans. He holds a gun tightly with his other hand. It’s pointed at them, at Connor.

_ >software instability▲<  
  
_

Connor’s hold slackens for a second.

_ > _ **_DAMAGE DETECTED -_ ** _Bicomponent #45t788_ .  
  


“Connor!”

_You fucking bastard._

Connor’s vision glitches as the blade of the scissors digs deep into its chest, barely missing its pump regulator. The deviant’s expression grows into something vicious as it pushes Connor away, making it fall on top of Anderson’s legs. 

“Shit!” 

Connor hears the man curse, it hears the sound of running footsteps and a gunshot firing from above him.

“God dammit!” Anderson’s voice comes from somewhere above it. “Fuck, fuck—hey, take it easy!” he says as Connor uses its arms to sit up. The **_DAMAGE DETECTED_ **warning keeps flashing in its eyes.

“Just let me—woah, woah! What are you doing?!” Anderson’s voice cracks as Connor takes a hold of the scissors and rips it out like one would a splinter.  
  


> _Initiating repairs . . .  
  
_

“You can’t just take it out like that!” _Yes it can, it just did._

The weapon clatters to the ground.  
  
“The deviant.” Connor says and tries to get up, only for a hand to stop him.

“Sit the fuck down, you just got stabbed for God’s sake.”

“It didn’t hit any vital components,” but it _is_ losing some thirium, despite its system’s efforts the gash is deep. Connor needs to catch the MP500 before its reserves run out. “Lieutenant, the deviant—”

“There are other cops around. Forget about that prick, you are bleeding!” Anderson says while trying to apply pressure to his own wound.  
  
Anderson needs medical attention, more than an android that has a self repair system. Its partner is in need of help but the deviant is running away.

_[_ **_Mission:_ ** _stop the deviants]_

////

_[_ **_Objective:_ ** _Improve relationship status with Lt. Anderson]_

_selecting priorities. . .  
  
_

Anderson swallows a yelp of pain when he tries to move his sleeve to see the wound. Connor catches sight of the blood on the floor.

“You are also bleeding. You need help, Lieutenant.” Connor grabs the arm gently and tugs at the coat.

“So do you, asshole.” Anderson grumbles but doesn’t fight Connor as it helps remove the heavy clothing.

Connor undoes the knot of its tie and rolls up the sleeve of the lieutenant’s shirt, quickly wrapping the tie around Anderson’s arm. A makeshift tourniquet, but it’ll make do to reduce the blood loss until they can get to a medical center.

“You need to see a doctor, Lieutenant.”

Anderson laughs despite the pain he’s in.

“Fat fucking chance.”

“This is not something you can just shrug off.”

“Says the one that did just that with the blade in his goddamn chest.”

Connor’s LED swirls with red before going back to blue.

“I’m a machine I don’t—.”

“Hank? Are you there? Oh my God!” Officer Chen’s voice sounds from the other side of the dead end as she rushes to the lieutenant’s side. Connor takes a step back to allow her access to the wound.

“Hank what the hell happened?”

“Found the missing half of the murder weapon. Bastard tried to do the same he did to his owner, if it weren’t for—” Anderson pauses and looks back at Connor.

“If it weren’t for this tin can here God knows what else could have happened.” He finishes the thought and a pensive look sets on his face.

_ >software instability ▲<  
  
_

“We need to take you to a hospital.” Chen says. He grunts and shakes his head.

“I don’t need a fucking—.”

“Actually, you do.” Connor pipes in, earning a glare from Anderson.

“I’m fucking fine.” he says then, proceeds to show how not fine he is as he almost falls over while trying to get up. 

“Hank you are going. To a hospital. End of the story.” Chen’s voice becomes stern as she helps Anderson get back on his feet. She guides Anderson back to the car. 

Before turning around the corner, Anderson looks over his shoulder at Connor.

“You are coming with us.” He brings a hand up when he sees Connor opening its mouth. “If you say you are fine, I swear I’m kicking you.”

“That would only hurt you in the end.” Anderson raises an eyebrow at the android. “Someone needs to find the MP500.”

“Let the other cops deal with that, we know how he looks. I’ll brief them about it on the way over.”

“I’m faster.”

“And you have a stab wound in your chest. I might know jack shit about androids, but I don’t think you’ll make it far.” Connor doesn’t want to admit how accurate that is.

Anderson rubs the hand of his good arm over his face, and says,  
  
“I owe you one, so stop arguing with me.”

It needs thirium, and the deviant is too far away to connect wirelessly to it by now. 

“I require a new supply of thirium,” Connor finally tells him.

“We are getting that shit on the way over then, you are not dying in my car.” _Dying_ , Connor suddenly thinks of the gravestone in its mind palace. Its fingers run idly over the numbers on its jacket.

“I’m not alive, Lieutenant,” it reminds him yet again, sounding like a broken record.

“Look, do you want to get fucking fixed or not?”

It does.

Connor nods and follows after them. Its eyes shift momentarily to the new message, flashing on its HUD.  
  


**_[Mission: Failed]  
_ ** **_  
_**  
_Failure is not an option_ and yet, 

_Relationship: Lt. Hank Anderson._

> **_status:_ ** _tense._

Strangely enough, Connor doesn’t think it made the wrong call this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This Connor in this AU be like...


End file.
